


Angles

by Fan_dango



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationship, Fuckbuddies, M/M, Secret Relationship, Underage Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4958203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_dango/pseuds/Fan_dango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I waste all my time just thinking of you".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angles

Sometimes Derek touches Stiles’ face when they kiss.

Sometimes he breathes against Stiles’ cheek when he thinks Stiles is sleeping, grabs his hand under the covers like it's not a secret.

Sometimes he presses Stiles against the front door and it’s sweet instead of goodbye.

Sometimes Stiles forgets who they are, what they are.

Sometimes Derek lets him.

\--

The last Friday of summer break, Derek passes out on the couch.

He promised to take Stiles out, let him get drunk, let them be together, be.

Derek didn't make it past the living room floor, his head bracketed between Stiles’ knees.

One look at Stiles in the jeans Derek let him wear, that smirk, and Derek couldn't do it, couldn't expose him to the world (maybe he's more selfish than he likes to admit, maybe he wants Stiles for himself just a little while longer).

“Sorry,” he whispered, mouth warm and wet against Stiles’ kneecap.

Stiles touched the side of his face and Derek leaned into it, almost asked _What for?_ but he knows, he knows.

“Me too.”

\--

Every time Stiles wakes up in Derek’s bed, it’s like waking up to a broken heart.

 _You’re beautiful_ , he thinks, his chest pressed to Derek’s back, feeling every inhale like that alone can keep him together.

When Derek curls back against Stiles, Stiles freezes.

"D'you need me to drive you home?" Derek mumbles, doesn't turn to face Stiles. He leaves the Jeep at home in case someone in the neighbourhood notices it's gone all day.

Stiles lets his lips rest against the back of Derek's neck and keeps his mouth tightly shut. Derek looks over his shoulder, and his sleep-heavy eyes fight to focus. His erection presses against Stiles' hip when he rolls over, sagging boxer shorts and sweaty palms. It's nice.

“You’re like this little kid in my bed,” Derek whispers, and his voice catches. He stops, traces his thumb over Stiles’ nipple, up his bare chest. His fingers grip Stiles jaw. Stiles stops breathing.

Their eyes meet and Stiles grabs his hand, brings it up to his mouth, kisses his knuckles one-by-one-by-one.

He wants to say _I’m sorry_.

All that comes out is, "Yeah, I should go."

\--

They fuck, but Stiles privately thinks of it as making love.

He's stupid.

And he knows it’s something that keeps Derek up at night.

He knows it when he looks at him right before they fall onto his bed, his face so good at hiding something he doesn't realise Stiles has memorised.

"You should fuck me," he says the day before Stiles starts his senior year, his arms wrapped around Stiles' waist like if he lets go, Stiles will disappear. (It's the same way Stiles feels every time Derek fucking looks at him.)

Stiles leans his forehead against Derek's and whispers, "Okay," when he should be asking _why_ , when he should be asking _why now?_

Stiles doesn't know how to make it good for someone perfect – he smooths his hands down the backs of Derek’s thighs, doesn't say the things he really means.

He comes with _I love you_ on the very tip of his tongue.

\--

Derek kisses Stiles' cheek when he drops him off that morning, two streets behind his school (like the goddamn clandestine _nothing_ they are -- three months of _nothing_ that were really fucking everything).

He knows what the kiss means and he knows the look on Derek's face as he drives off.


End file.
